When I Come Back :: Final Fantasy VII
by Ayako Nakamura
Summary: It has been one year since the fall of Sephiroth to Cloud. He was a viable enemy, and the world was glad to be rid of him. Most of the world. But some enemies keep their promises. Some refuse to just be memories. OC in Final Fantasy world. Postmovie end
1. Prologue :: Fragility

**Please note: I ****do not**** own Final Fantasy, Square Enix, or have any other form of an affiliation with the company. As much as I would like to own a couple of the characters, the only character that is "mine" is Syries.**

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**Prologue::** When I Come Back

Autumn had always held a kind of magic feeling to it. It was cold, nearly cold enough to snow, but never so far from spring that one felt it was lost. These thoughts, along with a few less philosophical ones, traced the mind of Syries as she walked down the broken road. It was littered with stones thrown up by so many fights that had taken place here—most of them including the one she looked for now. She held the yellow and white flowers in her hand a little tighter, a bit more removed from reality and falling into her memories.

She stopped, standing beside a grave. It wasn't a very big stone, only enough so that this place would not be lost. Syries kneeled beside it, reading the etched name to herself:

_K._

She could have asked for there to be more words, the rest of the name. But that would only have brought attention to the fact. She had once known him, and that made her the enemy. It didn't matter that she sided with them now. The past was too strong a force to be forgotten.

"I didn't forget my promise," She said, laying the two colors of flower in a neat x before the grave. "I wish you would have told me. I could have come. But you never wanted help, not for anything." Syries sat back, sighing. "You never meant to...I know that." She tried to stand, but couldn't bring herself to leave. This place had so much left of all four of them, the brothers, and that one. Trying to block out returning memories, Syries shut her eyes. But it made no difference.

"I'm going to a new town. It'll be safer there, just like I promised. I guess that's what you wanted." She stared at the headstone for a few minutes, not a thought passing, time feeling as if it stood still. In and of that moment, Syries happened upon a realization; nothing she had ever known had been simple. Especially not him. She remembered suddenly a day when he had been there, happy, alive. Smiling at his own wit, that boy had told her once, _"Don't you know you don't have to worry about me? I'm immortal."_

"I should have been there. If I knew, If I could have thought, or just followed my instinct..."

She put a hand to her face, trying to cover eyes that welled with tears she didn't want to cry.

"I'm sorry."

_A/N: Please comment if you think I should go on with the story. There will be a few...heheheh... pairings, let's say. I'll clarify this in my next post, should the story be continued. Oh, and please give me ideas for the story's name—I'm out of any good ones._

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter One :: Things Unseen

**Author's Note:** This is the same story. I know it doesn't seem to tie in at the moment, but bear with me! It will make sense in the end...I hope...

**Chapter Two: **Things Unseen

The sun was setting overhead, a man in red noted as he continued toward his house. He had no problem with going home in the dark, but could see small tinges of fear growing in those that surrounded him. They were jittery people, bumping one another, throwing packages of who-knows-what into the air—it was all he could do to keep from walking over little children who played underfoot. Vincent pulled his cloak further over his arms to keep them out of sight. He was a rather strange character when these were not noticeable, let alone when a talkative child pointed them out. And that was a mistake he had made only one too many times.

By the time he was halfway home, Vincent Valentine noticed something. The girl who always walked in front of him was strangely absent tonight. Was it strange, he wondered, that this was so forthright in his mind? Surely, he had better things to do than think of one measly teenaged girl...

But still he wondered. She had never, not in the three months he had lived in the area, been more than four people away from him. She traveled the same road as he each passing day, leaving the marketplace at late noon, going down Eidel Road, and turning to a group of dilapidated houses without breaking her speed. It was hard to not notice her, being one of so few with that long brown hair, streaked with crimson red color. She had never spoken to him, yet Vincent felt strangely lonely without the girl around. Perhaps, he thought, it was the lack of friends he made. Yuffie could be right, after all. He had left Cloud's posse for the opposite side of town, saying, "I'm tired of the same voices. I won't be far, in case I'm needed." He had promptly changed the number on his cellphone, regardless. All the same, Yuffie persisted. She had even gone so far as to inform him that not only was she coming over tonight, but she was going to buy groceries so that there would be food in the house. Needless to say, he was less that enthralled by the idea of being entertained by the little ninja.

Vincent stopped suddenly. He felt as if something had clicked in his mind, some underlying suspicion had finally come forward and was yelling his name. This place, he remembered, looking around, was where the brown and red haired girl always turned. He had never seen this place when it was so black outside, with even the stars at a loss for light. The apartments, if you could call those broken, earth stained walls that, seemed to hold some dark aura of evil tonight. Though he was not sure why, Vincent turned toward the alleyway. His ear caught a sound he hadn't heard for many days, a sound he had hoped and prayed he would never hear again. It was the sound of someone dying. The voice was female, tainted with pain and anguish. As he stared down the alleyway, a figure seeped in black shadow escaped through one of the building's broken windows, feet flying for fear of what would become of him should Vincent Valentine know his motives.

He walked toward the form lying on the ground, holding her tired body up by sheer will. It was the girl that had not been walking home today, he saw, from the gleaming strands of red hair on her head. But those strands did not hold the same quality now, her hair disheveled, touched by the dust so near. Her simple clothes, now torn, told of what had gone on here. Closing her eyes, the girl looked away. Only then did Vincent glimpse a small razor in her hand, wet with blood. Her breath was growing heavy, her eyes, greyed with embarrassment. She was shaking uncontrollably by the time he was at her side, unable to stand or defend herself any longer.

"Please don't..." Her voice trailed off as the girl tried to back away, bur failed so miserably that she finally collapsed. Catching her, Vincent looked over her body. There were splatters of blood, some which he was not sure were hers. He watched as the girl drew her hands into fists, obstinate even in the face of death. " I won't hurt you." Vincent said, trying his best not to sound too unfeeling. As the teenager nodded, he noticed a glint, although ever so small, coming from her eyes.

"_Mako?"_ He said in hardly more than a whisper.

The girl forced her face upward, staring hard into Vincent's eyes. She had heard those words all too well. She covered her mouth to keep the scream of pain she emitted to a small whisper. Then, ushering the last of her strength, she wrapped her hand around where his wrist should have been, but an animal-like arm shimmered gold instead.

"It is my sin and..." Her body shook, coughing terribly. She caught blood that was being thrown up in her hand, and looked back up into the "human's" face.

"...and retribution."

"No." He said with a firmness that could have silenced a city, picking her up. She was so weak, so close to death. There was little he could do, but even so...

Vincent took out his phone as he ran, holding her with one arm, hidden beneath his flowing cloak. He hit four on the speed dial, calling none other than the one person he was trying to avoid.

"Hi!"

"Yuffie, it's Vincent, I—"

"Why aren't you back yet? I've been waiting forever!"

"That's not important." He growled, trying to run even faster. " I need you to get the medicine out of the cabinet."

"Why? Are you sick or something?"

"No." He stopped for a moment, trying to cover the girl again with his cloak as it blew away from his hands in the wind. She was coughing up even more blood than before, and her body was becoming cold.

"Vince?" Yuffie said, her voice by some miracle quieter. "Vincent? What was that sound?"

"Just do as I said."

He ended the call just as abruptly as he had begun it, quickly turning off the phone in case she tried to call him.

"Augh! That guy!" Yuffie said as she slammed down the receiver. The smell of food still hung in the air as she shuffled to the bathroom, doing as she had been told.

"Nothing's wrong, yeah right!" She whined. "Why doesn't he tell me anything?"

Minutes after, Valentine was at the door, hitting it with his shoe.

"I'm coming!" Yelled Yuffie, exasperated beyond what she could bear. "You know, if you—hey..." She lost her thoughts as Vincent ran inside, laying a bleeding girl who couldn't be more than seventeen on the only bed. He grabbed two of the bottles, still standing over the girl. She was closer to dead than before, and he knew that if there were any mess-ups at this point, she wouldn't be with them tomorrow.

"Yuffie." He called to her, his stern face boring holes into her own. "I need you to do this."

She nodded, understanding. They said no more as Vincent walked outside, each as somber as the other. Yuffie was, perhaps, a little more lost for words, but neither one was altogether sure of what was going on. Vincent flipped his phone back up as he heard the glass bottles clink from inside, listening intently as the wheezing increased.

"He...ello...?" Yawned a voice from the other side.

"Cloud." Vincent said, amazed at what he heard from the other end. "You were asleep at this hour?"

Cloud yawned again, louder this time. "Long day."

Vincent coughed as he tried to remember what he meant to say. "Cloud, you remember some of what happened when you had that Mako, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"I said—"

"I heard what you said," He mumbled, "but why do you want to know?"

Vincent jumped as a short cry came out of the house, followed by the sound of Yuffie trying to soothe her patient. "I have my reasons. Do you know of what to do when a person with Mako is dying?"

Sitting up, Cloud tried to think. He had been the one knocked out, not the savior. If Zack were here, maybe it would be different, but...

"Cloud..."

"Sorry." He said quickly, regaining his composure. "I don't know much. Do you have some health potions?"

"That's an archaic name, but yes; I gave her medicine."

There was silence.

"It's a her, then."

Vincent sighed. There was no getting past those last words, no matter what he did or said now.

"Thanks for your help."

By the time he went back inside to where the girl lay, her breathing was almost normal again.

"She's doing better." Yuffie said. She looked up at him, the strange being whose eyes were transfixed upon this being before them. "How'd you find her anyhow?"

Vincent stared back cluelessly for a few more moments, trying to process what she had said. "Oh. I just found her like this. Almost dead."

"I could have told you that."

Running a hand through his long hair, Vincent spoke again. "I guess you should go to bed."

"Where?" She asked. After all, it was late, and she was far from home. There was no way she was walking through the dark streets now, especially after what she had seen here!

"I have blankets in the back room."

Yuffie nodded in recognition, not waiting for her friend to help her find them. By the time she had finished with setting out the bedding, it was pitch black but for Vincent's phone emitting light. She watched as he studied the brown-haired girl, unmoving until she coughed again. He tensed, leaning over to make sure that she wasn't falling into another fit. But it was nothing.

Yuffie smiled. She couldn't remember the last time he had been so vigilant about keeping someone alive. Actually, she wasn't sure that there had ever been such a time.

"Kind of makes me wish I got mortally wounded once in a while." She mumbled to herself. With a sigh, the little ninja ducked under the covers, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.

((A/N: Yay, another one! Hopefully it's not too complicated...sorry about that...

Again, please review again if you think I should continue.))


	3. Chapter Two :: Lives Intertwined

(A/N: Thanks to my one reviewer for _reviewing._ Ahem.))

Chapter Two :: Lives Intertwined

"_Syries." A voice called into a room bathed in white. "Syries!" Without making a sound, the short figure that had called out the brown haired girl's name walked through the ajar door, entering the dimly lit laboratory. _

"_Hi." She squeaked back, staring at her toes._

_The little boy before her, his silvery hair still shining in a room at this lack of light, giggled. "You're scared." He laughed again. "What're you so afraid of? They aren't going to kill you. They need you."_

_She looked up at him, at his smiling face, and caught that contagious happiness. Surely he was right. The doctors here wouldn't kill her... _

_She hoped._

_-::-_

Syries awoke slowly from her dream, still infused with what had made her so sick the night before. As she looked around, she noticed that this was not the same house as before. For one thing, the walls weren't beat up. For another...there were other voices speaking here. Then she remembered: last night she had been, in effect, poisoned. And that guy, the one with black hair, had saved her. Why he had done such a thing, she had no idea, but thought it would be best to at least thank him.

"_Or not."_She thought, after trying to get up. For some reason, every part of her body hurt today. At the muffled sound she had made, a girl with short, dark hair had run into the room.

"Hey! Vincent!" She yelled loud enough for it to make Syries' ears hurt. "She's up!" The figure she called out to sighed from the other room. "You speak to loudly for early mornings, Yuffie." He said aloofly, walking through a large opening where a door would have stood. In the full daylight—for the sun had risen to its highest point, which meant this was by far the latest Syries had slept for days—she could finally see how strange her savior was to the eye. Long black hair draped over his shoulders, which were in turn covered by a great red cloak. Two shining "gloves" covered his hands, whose arms hung loosely, almost as if he believed that he could not be stopped. Yet he had another look to him somewhere in that ancient face, one that believed that he could easily meet death's door, and that life was a gift too precious to waste. _An oxymoron._ She thought. He was strange indeed. Syries reminded herself that she was not so much better, with her red streaked hair and strange eyes. She could have matched the man, Syries mused, if there was any question of oddity.

"I hope you feel better this morning than last night." Vincent had lost his way somewhere down the road of trying to be congenial, and now sounded colder than usual. But that in and of itself didn't bother Syries.

"I can't see how I could be worse." She said, coming up from lying down onto her elbows. _Funny room. _She thought, looking around, yet felt that any room in Midgar was more than comparable to what she had known for the past months. "Thank you." She said, this time her voice solemn.

"So anyway people, I think we should introduce ourselves. Unless you already have of course, but you don't know me!" Called out the ninja, skipping past Vincent to stand at the foot of the bed Syries had been placed on. "I'm Yuffie Kisaragi, the greatest ninja of them all."

"And so humble too…" Mumbled Vincent to himself, walking off as he decided to eat breakfast.

With her hands at her hips and a smirk on her face, Yuffie, yelled for Vincent to come back. She wouldn't be stopped so easily as this!

"Well, be that way if you want, Mister Scary-Man!" She called, "But I think it'd be a good idea to tell a person your name once you've carried 'em off and let them sleep in your bed last night!"

Vincent stopped cold. The way she had put it just then…disgusting. He was already irritated at the fact that there was no information on who or what had attacked the girl here, and this only pushed the issue. Yuffie had a way of doing that, though.

"Valentine." He called back without even bothering to turn around. "My name is Vincent Valentine."

Yuffie sighed. There was no getting through a little humour to that guy, she thought, unhappy with the outcome of her toying with his mind. It was all just meant in fun, after all. There hadn't been any need to get defensive or whatever he called that. "Hey, how about you?" She asked suddenly, whipping around to face the girl clad in the bloodstained grey shirt and black pants.

"About me?" Syries asked, confused.

"Your name! Come on, doesn't anyone get this at all?"

Sitting up as best she could, the brown and red haired girl coughed. She hoped they both weren't too excited to ask about her past, that would only take more explaining. And more talking at this point only meant more coughing. "I'm Syries."

"Syries what?"

"Nothing. Just Syries."

The ninja raised an eyebrow. Usually you had to look out for people without last names, especially around here. Maybe that's how people named their children on this side of town, but she didn't think so. It seemed a little strange. That sentiment was shared by Vincent, who turned around to look at the two girls.

"Is it."

He said nothing more, and being hungry, just walked off into the kitchen.

_-::-_

Syries still didn't feel like getting up as she smelled egg cooking in the kitchen, good as it seemed. Her muscles had cried out in pain the last time she tried it, and now Syries had become a little wary of it. Hurt has a way of doing that to people, she mused.

There was a sound nearby, right next to her in fact. A cellphone.

"Ay ay ay ay A-eh-Aaaay!" Called out a cheerful ringtone, quite unheard over Vincent and Yuffie's discussion on whether or not bumpy chokobo eggs were bad for you. The phone rang again. And again.

"Um, Vincent?" Syries called. The only answer was Yuffie yelling back at her friend that he was a very bad "egg-picker."

Shrugging her shoulders, Syries reached past the pillow and picked up the cellphone.

"Hello?"

"He…woah…" Said a boyish voice from the other line. "Hey, do I have the wrong number or something?"

"Who were you trying to reach?" Syries asked patiently.

"Oh, just the depressing dude named Vincent Valentine, but—"

"Hold on a second."

Holding the phone away from her mouth, Syries called through a single minute of silence in Yuffie and Vincent's discussion to where he stood at the door, about to go change out of clothes splattered with egg yolks.

"Vincent, someone's wants to talk to you."

An eyebrow raised, but nonetheless irritated that someone had gotten his number, he took the phone. "Hello?"

"So, is she hot?"

Vincent jerked back suddenly, taken aback by words that could be spoken by none other than…

"Reno."

"You guessed it!" Reno replied happily. "I get it, you moved away from us to pick up some city chicks!"

"That's not—Yuffie!" He put down the phone momentarily to catch a plate of food from falling off of the counter. "I can do it on my own, thank you very much." She growled back. Sighing, Vincent picked up the phone again. "How did you get this number."

"Well…" Vincet prepared himself for a long story. "You see, I was over here in Midgar, and I thought, why not go get a drink with Cloud? The poor dude has to be bored out of his mind not having anyone to beat up. So he's off doing errands or something, and Tifa's whining about how Cloud left his phone on the table again. I tell her I'll give it to him, but happen to see your name as the last person called! Isn't that great?"

"So what you're saying is…" Returned Vincent with an air of displeasure, "that you went through Cloud's records on his phone, without his consent."

"You might say that." Vincent was about to hang up when Reno started talking again. "Hey, I guess this means Yuffie stayed the night at your place, huh? Two girls with you. Man, you've changed a lot!"

And as can be the only comeback from Vincent Valentine to this strain of conversation, silence pervaded the air. It soon ended with a click.

_-::-_

Syries watched silently as Vincent walked back into the house later that day, after a long walk downtown. Unbeknownst to her, he had been seeking out Syries' attacker. She turned away as he looked back at her, feeling at a loss for words after the conversation her existence had caused with that person on the phone. The girl fought within herself for a reason to speak, something worthwhile to say that could end her terrible effect on those around her.

"I'm sorry."

As Vincent turned his puzzled face to the girl, she continued. "The phone conversation. I heard it, and…yeah. I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

He shrugged mildly. "I couldn't have expected any more from Reno."

"That doesn't make it any less my fault." She sighed, fighting through pain to stand upright. Syries couldn't decide if it hurt more to move or try to be in the presence of someone like him, especially after something like this had happened. _I'm such a fool._

"I still want to know." Said Vincent, his feet clanging metallically against the floor. "What tried to kill you back there?"

Syries gripped the bed's frame as another wave of pain coursed through her body. Vincent asked what was wrong, but she said nothing to that. He had helped too much already, she decided, forcing her body to sit upright. Doing her best to breathe normally, the girl spoke again. "It really doesn't matter."

The man's head cocked strangely as he looked at her. Somehow, the idea of someone trying to kill another generally did matter, making this an even odder calamity. "…doesn't matter?"

"Not as much as you think, I mean." She said quietly. "It was bound to happen, so who it was didn't make so much of a difference."

His brow knit in wonder. How a person, anyone at all, could think that they were bound to be attacked was beyond him…unless there was more to the story than he was being told. "So you don't know who it was." She didn't say anything. She just stared listlessly past him, her sight covering the whole room. At last, it came back to rest on Valentine. As she looked, a memory superimposed itself, nay—forced itself into her consciousness. Vincent's long black hair flashed white for three terrible seconds, his eyes so red, were blue. And as for the cape? It was black.

"_I've waited for this, my little memory-maker." _Said the voice of that figure as Vincent spoke words she couldn't hear. _"You may be worthless without them, but…"_

"_You are mine now."_

Meanwhile, Vincent had waited in suppressed wonder as her dimly lit eyes stared fearfully into his own. As her legs gave way and Syries fell to the floor, Vincent managed to catch her shoulders. He set her on the ground. He could hear her shiver, whispering in fear. Kneeling to the floor, he listened to the short, chant-like sound falling from her quivering lips. It was one he didn't want to hear.

"Se…" She coughed again, trying to breathe more than ever. But the fear of what would happen if she did not say that name was too much.

"Se…..phiroth…."

Q & A Session:

**Le Pecore Nere: **Yep, that's the girl from the Prologue and Chapter One. Sorry if it was confusing, I just forgot to use her name instead of "the girl."

Oh, and I'm sorry if this part's confusing too. I was sick when I wrote most of it. Again, thanks for your great review!


	4. Note to Readers :: will be edited later

Hey Readers,

I wanted to let you know that this story will be almost impossible to update at the moment due to SOLs. I will update afterward, don't worry about that, but please be patient! Thanks for all your reviews so far,

-Aya


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